


Irony, Tragedy, and Love

by Diary



Category: The Brothers Bloom (2008)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Aromantic Asexual Stephen Bloom, Aromantic Character, Asexual Character, Background Relationships, Bechdel Test Pass, Brothers, Canon Character of Color, Female Protagonist, Female-Centric, Interracial Relationship, Introspection, Late Night Conversations, Literal Sleeping Together, Minor Bloom/Penelope Stamp, POV Bang Bang (Brothers Bloom), POV Character of Color, POV Female Character, Relationship Negotiation, Self-Reflection, Sex Indifferent Asexuality, Sharing a Bed, Suicidal Themes, Unhealthy Relationships, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-05-02 01:09:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14533404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diary/pseuds/Diary
Summary: There’s probably a Life Lesson to be gleaned, and no doubt, both brothers and Penelope would be fascinated and dissect, discuss, and ponder all over if they ever learned these facts about her. Complete.





	Irony, Tragedy, and Love

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own The Brothers Bloom.

So many white men have a fetish for quiet, petite Asian women, especially the ones with pale skin and almond-shaped eyes.

“Stephen, we’re not letting this strange woman stay here,” Bloom insists.

His first name is much stranger than her birth one, but she knows, if she rang the doorbell and verbally introduced herself with a more conventional name, he’d still insist  _we’re not letting this unknown person stay._

__

Stephen Bloom keeps staring, but there isn’t lust, disgust, or a combination in his eyes. He’ll read anything once, she’s heard, but she imagines he likes stories containing mysterious figures appearing and disappearing from people’s lives. Right now, he’s trying to figure out if she’s all show, if she’s a guardian figure for his baby brother, or if she’s connected to someone along the lines of Diamond Dog.

__

She’s so much more than the performances she puts on, she’s not going to risk herself for someone so ordinary as the oddly named Bloom, and she never goes directly against those such as Diamond Dog, but she certainly doesn’t dissuade those who do.

__

Besides, in his case, she doesn’t particularly care for dogs as a species, but she’s vaguely insulted on their behalf.

__

Listening to the brothers argue is getting boring, and so, she blows up the coffeemaker, partly to show off her skill, and partly, because, she and Stephen Bloom both prefer tea, but Bloom prefers coffee.

__

Naturally, there’s no tea, and the coffeemaker was top of the line.

__

Stephen Bloom is so impressed, he says, “You can have my bed.”

__

She chooses to hear, “You can  _sleep_ in my bed,” and drags him away from the couch after Bloom frustratedly retires for the night.

__

There was a time when she was little when she wanted to learn martial arts, but it never happened. Now, she’s content to routinely run, practise with knives, always carry some form of Taser or stun gun, and memorise where it’s best to try to bite, scratch, kick, and twist if necessary.

__

A few men have tried, but no one’s ever gotten further than some groping they regretted doing. She knows there’s always a chance of drugging or other circumstances where she’ll be hurt despite her best efforts to protect herself, but this is one of the things she firmly vanishes from her thoughts when the knowledge pops up. If it ever happens, she’ll figure out what to do then.

__

As it is, she sleeps great, and in the morning, it’s clear he’s not used to or comfortable with sharing his bed.

__

Bloom goes to get some tea with a sarcastic parting of, “Try not to get yourself killed, Stephen.”

__

“I’ll start breakfast,” Stephen says. “Any requests?”

__

She digs eggs, all the vegetables she can find, and some butter substitute out of their tiny fridge.

__

“Omelette,” he asks.

__

She nods.

__

“Any cheese?”

__

Shaking her head, she sits down. She’s not lactose intolerant per se, but dairy and her have rarely gotten along.

__

Starting to make it, he says, “So, uh- We don’t get many people as interesting as you.”

__

She can practically hear the  _kid_ at the end of the sentence, but he’s smart enough to verbally omit it.

__

When he sits down, she produces one of the notebooks she found and shows him the modifications she’s made to his one of his plans.

__

…

__

“We never work with the same person twice, Stephen,” Bloom protests.

__

She can see the confliction in Stephen. Aside from the fact he’s somehow found himself in the position a woman is causing issues between him and his brother, something he genuinely thought could never happen, there are good reasons they never work with the same crew or people twice, and it was probably his idea in the first place.

__

On the other hand, though, this plan is a two person-job. Adding a third person would be challenging, and he’s in the mood for a challenge.

__

They’re never going to trust her, and she’s never going to trust them, but she did nominally prove herself the last time. Her involvement shouldn’t put them at too much risk if it turns out his limited respect is misguided.

__

“Could we talk privately,” Stephen asks, and he means him and Bloom, but it’s directed at her and Bloom both.

__

…

__

Eventually, Stephen gets himself shot at for real.

__

This isn’t entirely unexpected.

__

The smart thing to do would be disappear, but she guesses she’s not in the mood for doing the smart thing.

__

Instead, she handcuffs Bloom inside the car, chucks a smoke bomb at the people firing in the warehouse, drops down inside, and manages to grab Stephen and lead him out in the confusion.

__

Later, Bloom hands her a cup of well-made tea with a plastic spoon. “Thank you,” he says. “For earlier.”

__

Nodding, she drinks the tea with the spoon.

__

“I worry about him,” he quietly admits. “I know he worries about me, but if one of us is ever going to be in real danger-” He lets out a frustrated noise.

__

She vaguely pats him.

__

He doesn’t have a choice but to love his brother. Meanwhile, she respects and might be genuinely fond of Stephen Bloom, but when he ultimately self-destructs, she’ll cut her loses with only a manageable sense of sadness.

__

…

__

One night, Bloom is having a genuinely good time at a beach party, and she finds herself sitting with Stephen away from the others on a log with a small fire in front of them.

__

“And usually, I respect it when someone says a white man doesn’t have any business trying to seriously dissect the social and political themes of African-American literature. That’s not something I even want to argue with, except in this one case. Ellison...”

__

Part of her is tempted to point out the irony of him decrying Ellison’s use of literal blindness for metaphorical blindness when only four people alive know his brother’s name, he hides behind The Brothers Bloom, and he utilises her, a quiet minority who can utilise social invisibility better than either of them.

__

But then, one, he does have more business than her if only due to the fact she’s never been great at understanding metaphors and similes, and she’s not sure she truly understands what constitutes irony.

__

For another, even when she might disagree with his literary assessments or suspect he doesn’t fully understand what he’s talking out, she never finds it unamusing to witness him gushing or grumbling and laying out theories, dissections, and speculations.

__

Right now, his eyes are animated, he’s smiling slightly as he talks, and he’s a warm, real presence beside her.

__

There are things she’s never going to know about him, his life is literally tricking and manipulating people and thinking of ways to trick and manipulate people when he’s not, and in some ways, she might be a novelty to him, the silent, quirky foreigner, not too dangerous with explosives in the eyes of potential marks who find brown people to be an oxymoron, not a femme fatale, a possible threat but someone besides his brother he genuinely likes.

__

For all this, he’s real. He may or may not think he’s better than her, he might be looking to exploit her one day, and he looked at her more as a puzzle than a person on the first day they met, but they’re just two people sitting under the stars, and he’s beautiful in the moonlight.

__

Leaning over, she kisses him.

__

This was not a good call.

__

He freezes, and immediately, he says, “No, Bang Bang. No.” Scooting away a little and shaking his head, he glances around before quietly saying, “I’m not interested in anything like that.”

__

She doesn’t know if it’s her in particular, women as a whole, or people in general, but seeing he’s clearly trying to figure out how to further articulate, she digs in her bag and tosses the book she intended to give him for his birthday as an apology. Then, she says, “Still sleep.”

__

Nodding, he moves back over to her, and some of the awkwardness is impossible to dispel, it’ll have to fade away naturally, but the night is still beautiful, and it’s still nice to be sitting next to him in the warmth of the fire away from the others.

__

...

__

He quickly got used to sharing beds with her after the first night, and thankfully, the beach hasn’t changed this.

__

What does change things is the realisation the warehouse was something of a test.

__

Bloom flounces off with firm words about, “I’m quits,” and over teriyaki soup, Stephen lays out another con.

__

“It’s time for my masterpiece,” he says. “I’m about ready to retire, too.”

__

She’s not an angry person by nature. Her mother can never let go of slights or of past mistakes, and she’s never been able to understand this, just as her mother can’t understand how she doesn’t hold onto bad things. If someone is worth her revenge, she gives it, and if they’re not, she lets any thoughts of them float away on the rare occasion they appear. She has a few deep regrets, but she knows, if she dwells too deeply, she’ll never get to overshadow them by great achievements.

__

In this instant, however, she finds herself angry at both these men and herself. Either the universe likes mixing Bloom, tragedy, and irony, or subconsciously, he’s more clued in than he realises.

__

As for Stephen Bloom and herself, she’s been wasting her time. She likes explosions, outright theft, and getting paid good money for her services, but she’s been wasting her time playing the actress and props gatherer in psychological manipulation that’s often less about the money they receive and more about a moral judgement the brothers have passed on people.

__

She could be angry at him for wasting her time, for managing to somewhat con her, but the truth is she’s angry, because, she’s hurt. He’s young, he’s healthy, he has so much he could live for, there are so many more years she could have in his life, and nothing will cause him to live for anything or anyone but his brother, and even his brother being alive and possibly being happy isn't enough anymore.

__

Likely, he expects he’s found the person who will always love Bloom unconditionally, and _hey, that isn’t how anything works, stupid_ , she’s tempted to scream. Brothers, familial love, that’s one thing, and he’s unhealthily devoted on top of that, but expecting any woman to subject herself to that, believing she will and should-

__

The fact this is beyond sexist and misogynistic, the fact she’s always thought he truly had little of the former and isn't the latter-

__

She still cares about him despite all these new, painful, unpleasant realisations, and this isn’t who she wants to be.

__

…

__

But she stays, and Penelope is a person who’s never conned anyone that perfectly embodies the sayings, ‘Never con a confidence person,’ and, ‘Never try to con a confidence person.’

__

“I learned how to read body language from the nurses and doctors,” Penelope tells her. “They wanted to protect me, and so, they kept secrets. Told white lies. Do you know American sign language? One of my tutors taught me.”

__

Nodding, she signs a few words.

__

Penelope lives for adventure the same way Stephen Bloom lives for his brother and fiction, but inexplicably, it seems he was also right: Everything points to her being genuinely in love with Bloom.

__

This makes no sense, and she refuses to give Stephen this much credit.

__

Except, she can’t particularly judge. It’s not love in her case, she loves her mother, she loves explosions, she loves a cousin despite also despising her, but she’s attracted to someone with little logical reason behind it, too. He hasn’t done anything to deserve it, and more than this, she’ll give him the credit of knowing he hasn’t done anything to purposefully encourage and cultivate it, either.

__

…

__

The cousin she despises loved Barbies as a kid and somehow once got away with punching her hard enough to leave a bruise right in front of several adults.

__

Destroying all her Barbies didn’t satisfy her despite getting away with it, and to this day, she still hasn’t completely forgiven her mother.

__

There’s probably a Life Lesson to be gleaned, and no doubt, both brothers and Penelope would be fascinated and dissect, discuss, and ponder all over if they ever learned these facts about her.

__

They never will.

__

Her mother thinks she’s with a U.N. based environmental charity, her cousin is jokingly sceptical but wildly wrong in guesses about what the real story might be, and she has no use for the rest of those she has family ties to. The cousin’s mother is worse than her daughter could ever be, and the man her own mother was once with, she acknowledges him only as far as the fact she does have legitimate, no con about it dual American citizenship.

__

…

__

They’re in bed, and Stephen kisses her.

__

She shakes her head. Pushing his face until his head is turned away, she curls tighter around him.

__

“You sure?”

__

He sounds tired, wearily wary, and maybe, a little sad.

__

She isn’t gentle in her kick, and she falls asleep with the feel of his chest rising and falling and the sound of his soft inhaling and exhaling of air.

__

…

__

Bloom and Penelope will never see her again.

__

Stephen Bloom is supposed to be dead, and it might be better to- she needs to see his body, his corpse, for closure.

__

So, she goes, and he’s weak, he’s unconscious, but he’s not dead, and her first reaction is relief and hope followed by _this isn’t fair_.

__

If this were just a case of morality, she’s always genuinely believed a suicidal person should have the right to die. She thinks help should be offered, she thinks it’s great when people put a sincere effort into changing a person’s mind, she thinks it might be close to a miracle when a person is brave and strong enough to change their minds, but she’s never agreed with psychiatric holds on people not a danger to others, and she views a clear refusal to honour a person’s desire to let them die to be disrespectful of them as a person.

__

This isn’t a case of morality.

__

This is: She thought she was prepared to cut her loses, but if she does- the mere thought of it causes unmanageable pain.

__

And every second she spends debating, he’s slipping further and further away.

__

Well, then.

__

She’s not sure what to do, but letting go of the weak pulse underneath her fingertips, she starts moving. If Stephen Bloom is going to die, it’s going to be after all her best efforts and all the fighting she can muster to stop it.

__


End file.
